The Thief, The Page, and The Prince
by hollowXchain
Summary: This is a Homestuck/King Arthur cross over. There are none of the original Homestuck characters, I just borrowed the universe. This was actually an assignment I had for school, but I decided to publish it as well. I hope it is enjoyable and if the feedback is good I may just expand this into a full out story. Onward! Nope no spoilers and definitely no summary! (I suck at those o.o)


**AN: Hello! Rated T for safety! I DO NOT OWN HOMESTUCK! THAT IS ALL HUSSIE (he needs to quit sinking my ships!). This is, as I said before, a crossover, but I could not find any appropriate category for Arthur. Also, the story is not told from one perspective! And at times it can be really cheesy, but it couldn't be helped. It turned into a love story. You've been warned! SOO here we are. Do enjoy, and I still won't spoil it, though I will say this. This story doesn't focus on Arthur. This story is about Morgan. Morgan Lefeai.**

**The Thief, The Page, and the Prince**

* * *

It was dark, the Alternian moon hidden behind the clouds. Gold irises glistened in the night as the figure they belonged to darted thru the woods. In her arms was a bundle of blankets, two jagged horns peeking out. She sheltered the grubling as best she could, trying desperately to outpace the drones behind her, but they were gaining quickly.

It was her cruel luck that she would trip a stone's throw away from her safe haven. In mere moments, she was surrounded. The evil was thick in the air, and she could feel the doom closing in around the grub. Try as she might, she was too weak to use her telekinesis to force back the imperial drones. She wailed as the nearest drone ripped the candy red grub from her. The screeching of the infant troll was deafening to her, but the drones felt none of the pain it caused her.

She remembered, just then, that her natural talent had always been thievery. She concentrated, focusing all her remaining strength into stealing back the mutant-blooded troll. What she found she had gotten was not the poor infant, but instead the doom that had been pressing in around it. She could feel it in her hand, though she could not see it.

Only then did it all make sense. And only then did her fear slip away. She stood slowly, the essence of doom itself oozing between her fingers like quicksilver.

Her frown morphed into a grin, and she happily bestowed upon the mindless imperial drones the gift of doom. Their bodies cracked and their knees buckled. They collapsed to the ground while the gold blooded psychic leaped for the child. She checked him over for injury and, seeing none, ran. She didn't look back.

She didn't need to...

* * *

"Again." "But Morgan, I've done this millions of times! Why-" "I said again Moorre Dreadd! You will continue to practice until such a time that I am satisfied with your skills. I did not risk life and limb to get you that jokerkind specibus for you not be the most proficient user of it. Do I make myself clear?" The adolescent troll sighed. "Fine."

He drew four arrows from his back holstered quiver, notching them close together on the string of his bright red bow. "On my mark." The teen pulled back the string to his pointy gray ear, his other arm straight out. "Ready. Aim." He knelt down, turning the bow sideways. The only sound was the stretch of the taut string. Four targets sat 100 feet away. His emotions riled in his gut, the feeling emanating through his whole body and into each arrow. "Fire."

The four arrows leaped from the bow, piercing the air before sinking into their respective targets. "Well done. You may rest now." The elder troll, Morgan Lefeai, sat calmly under a nearby tree. The leaves on the ground danced and swirled around her as she twisted her fingers.

"Morgan?" The gold eyed troll looked up, the leaves still swirling about her. "Yes my little Prince?" Moorre sat down next to her before asking, "Why don't you use any weapons? I mean, you said even a ghost once had a specibus. Why don't you?"

Morgan smiled, and her voice was soft as she explained, "Well you see little Prince Dreadd, as a Ψionic, I have telekinesis. You know about that. Now, I've also found I have another gift. But that story is for another time. Now as you know, the gold bloods are the most prone to having psychic powers. For this reason, my caste has long been exploited and enslaved. We are powerful, and as such, many of us needn't wield any weapon. We can battle many of the dangerous creatures that inhabit our planet.

However, very few of us are powerful enough individually to escape enslavement... That is where you come in. Moorre, you are a Prince. A maker of destruction. You, using all your skills and everything at your disposal, will topple the regime. You will annihilate this Empress that oppresses us and that would wish to do you harm."

She smiled at her adopted son, and he smiled back. Her words fueled the rage in his heart. He turned his head sideways to look at his mother, grinning wide. "The Imperial scum will pay." Morgan stood, looking toward the targets as they wrenched themselves apart. Moorre looked on, amazed as ever by his caretaker's abilities. "Yes they will, my little Prince. Dearly."

* * *

The new Empress sat on her throne, her ever loyal protector and friend beside her. They were chatting idly, for once having time to rest, when a violet eyed girl entered the throne room. She asked their pardon for her interruption. "Your Highness? I apologize for interfering with your rest, but Merlin wishes to speak with you. He says it is of great urgency."

The friends sighed, the Empress's gills flaring in exasperation. "Very well. And Gwenne, you don't need to be so formal with me. We've known each other our whole lives, have we not?" She stood up, her black dress falling to her ankles. "You look beautiful as ever Arther, even above water." She smiled slightly.

She loved how close she was with her morail. She could always count on him, and they shared all their secrets with each other. "Thank you Launce. Now come along, we have a Seer to appease." The Knight nodded, standing up and pulling his fuchsia gloves on. The gloves had been a gift from Arther, and they made public his role as her morail to anyone who might have pale or caliginous feelings towards him. As such, he wore them everywhere.

"Shall we? Please, lead the way Gwenne," he said. The group began to walk through the castle, happily greeting all the trolls working in the corridors. They finally arrived in the courtyard where Merlin was waiting, looking up at the pink Alternian moon. Launce called out to the older troll, "Merlin! How are you sir?" The cerulean blood chuckled a bit at the exuberance with which he was greeted.

"Oh I'm fine Launce. I should be asking that of you and our new Empress, but we haven't the time. One of our most pivotal colonies is under siege. And we believe they have plans to attack another colony. I would go myself and lead a counter attack. However, your predecessor's Helmsman was killed during your fight with Utherr."

Gwenne piped up just then. "I may have located a suitable replacement though! She lives rather close as well. Shall I send some drones to collect her?" Arther seemed to not be listening, looking around the yard. She spoke over her shoulder though, her answer immediate. "No. Merlin, go yourself please. Persuade her to help. Brute force is not what is needed with our people. The oppression ends with me. Tell her this is of great importance. We will prepare the fleet." Merlin bowed for a moment, but he stood up straight before speaking. "As you wish."

* * *

"Pardon? The Empress wants my... help? And I'm actually being given a choice?" The man nodded. "Indeed Ms. Lefeai. In fact, she was quite set on me coming here personally to proposition you. But as I said earlier, this is a matter with immediate and far-reaching consequences. If you are even slightly considering it, then please say so. You may come with me to the palace and speak with the new Empress yourself."

Morgan thought about her options. Her fingers twitched in her lap, remotely writing a note for her son. In it, she told him an opportunity had arisen. She warned him to be careful, but to prepare their army of rebels. The day had come to set their plan into motion, she said. She smiled as the last line came to a close: "Soon, we will make them pay."

She then looked up kindly to Merlin, smiling as she said, "I would be honored. Please, allow me a moment to get my things. I won't be long." Merlin smiled. "Of course, but please be quick." Morgan went inside and quickly put together her essentials. The cerulean blood was waiting by the four wheel device when she returned.

Merlin opened the door for her before climbing in the other side. He motioned for the driver to take them to the castle. Only then did he take notice of how truly old her clothes were, how ragged and small her bag was. "I see you brought few things," he said. Morgan forced a laugh, though it was coarse and frayed. "Yes, as that is the quandary we lower bloods face. Our psychic powers are our gift, while our frail, short-lived bodies and little wealth are our plight." With that, the Seer and the Thief fell silent. Merlin mused to himself, _"For an ochre blood, she sure is dignified."_

* * *

Morgan was awestruck at what she saw upon their arrival. She had never before been close to, nay, seen such a structure. The massive stone building was exquisite, the architecture reminiscent of fairy tale palaces, and every stone painted a deep shade of fuchsia. An olive blooded man promptly relieved her of her bag, and then stepped aside to allow the two trolls passage.

A sea-dweller was awaiting them in the entrance hall, and greeted Morgan curtly. "My name is Gwenne Eveere, royal aid to the Empress. She has already been alerted to your arrival, and wishes to speak with you forthwith. If you would, please follow me."

Merlin chuckled lightly as the dumbstruck look on the gold blood's face. Morgan followed behind the two higher bloods, taking in every detail. By the time they reached the private drawing room of the Empress, Morgan had recovered her wits and she smiled malevolently as the door opened. "_I will make you pay for your family's crimes,"_ she thought.

The Empress looked up, and just then, bright fuchsia irises met ochre. And for that one moment, the Thief wanted to steal something besides the young sovereign's life.

"Hello your Highness." Morgan bowed slightly, her hair falling in front of her face and covering the light gold blush on her cheeks. She couldn't believe she'd just entertained those thoughts. She rebuked herself before looking up, trying not to meet those fuchsia eyes again. Arther smiled, oblivious to the awkwardness. "Please Morgan, call me Arther. I see no point in being formal if we intend to see each other every day. You have decided to help us, correct?"

Morgan tried to keep her voice from fluctuating as she spoke, "I have. It is my duty to help protect the people of Alternia and our foreign holdings. As such, I would be more than happy to serve as your helmsman. Er… woman." Gwenne tried to cover her mouth to contain her giggle, but it still proved loud enough for the short-tempered gold blood to hear.

She rounded on her heel to face the sea-dweller, glaring menacingly towards her. "And what, pray tell, is so funny?" Morgan demanded. The young violet blood stuttered and trembled under the fierce stare of the older troll. Launce stepped in, getting between the two excited females. His voice was calm as he queried, "Gwenne, wouldn't it have been a good idea to get to know a thing or two about the person you intend to hire before you do something like this?" The hapless girl nodded vigorously, hiding behind Merlin.

Morgan stepped back, straightening her jacket. "You're all rather docile and civilized for highbloods." "And you're pretty violent for a ochre blood," retorted Launce. "It comes with the territory. Literally, I live on the edge of some of the most ruthless forests and rivers on this planet. It's cull or be culled." By this point, Arther was exasperated, her voice strained. "I can understand being that way when you're at home, but here, please be civil. We don't need someone with a hair-pin trigger going ballistic on everyone who laughs."

Morgan's voice was brimming with indignation as she spoke, "Let me make something clear, Highness. If I am to help you, I want to be treated equally." "You shall be." "And for the record, I'm quite tolerant to those who deserve it. Ditzy waders are not among those I count as deserving." She glowered in said ditzy wader's direction. "Having violet blood does not make you any better of a person than anyone else. For all I care, the hemospectrum can go to hell, at least the way it is now."

Merlin's eyebrows curved up instantly. Launce and Arther exchanged a surprised glance. Gwenne's voice was barely above a whisper when she asked, "What do you mean 'the way it is now'?"

The Thief smiled. "Oh, it's quite simple," she said. "I mean the way things worked before our universe was reset."

"Reset?" Launce queried. "Okay allow me to explain. I am close friends with the Heir of Mind. She has known for a long time about many things that most trolls will never even be able to comprehend. She has seen our past and spoken to the creatures of the Furthest Ring. They have told her more about the times before violence was the answer to all our problems. And she has recited these tales to me,  
hence I know all of it as well. Every detail about how trolls used to treat one's blood color. About how culling didn't used to mean death. About Beforus."

Arther was about to query the Thief as well when a neophyte slammed into the wall, panting heavily. She was clutched the wall to keep her balance, so Morgan and Launce rushed over and helped her stand.  
"Your Highness, it wasn't as we suspected. They have advanced their line and are headed straight for Alternia. At their current speed, you must leave now in order to stave them off."

Morgan's expression changed from concerned to confused. "Arther, what is she talking about? _Good Gog, I just called her by her first name...what is wrong with me?_" The two women helped the messenger sit down, and Gwenne quickly knelt beside her to check her injury. Arther then crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing.

"The Felt," she said, her voice menacing and spiteful. "They had allied themselves with Utherr, given that she had betrayed the people of Alternia by becoming Lord English's apprentice..."

At the mere sound of the murderous, marauding Time Lord's name, Morgan's emotions flared. Random objects in the room flew into the walls, ceiling, and floor. "English..." Her voice was an unhinged growl. They all stood in silence and fear after the Thief's outburst. No one dared move, or even breathe. That is, no one but Arther. She waited patiently for Morgan to calm down, tending to the injured teal blood while Gwenne was preoccupied by fear.

Only after sitting in the silence for a bit did it dawn on the ochre blood how Arther had reacted to her the entire time she had been there. And as for what just transpired, the young Empress was the only one not cringing in fear. She clearly had a hate not that dissimilar to her own.

"_She's different. That's what felt so strange. She harbors as much hate for English and for that evil witch of an Empress that preceded her as I do. She's been nothing but kind. She hasn't threatened me. She shows a genuine caring for the lower bloods around her. It's...unprecedented." _

Morgan looked up, staring at the wall for a moment. Without turning her head she spoke softly, "What did English do to you?" Save Merlin and Arther, the trolls were puzzled, though relieved that things had stopped speeding about the room. The fuchsia blood, however, was not.

"He turned my predecessor into a tyrant. He is the reason our kind has felt the oppression from those higher than them for so long. And that includes myself." Morgan turned her head slightly, though she did not get up. "No. I mean what did he do to you. That kind of hostility doesn't manifest in someone who hasn't been done a personal wrong. So I ask again: what did he do to you?"

Arther sighed, looking down at her feet. "He killed me."

Everyone was shocked at those words. Everyone, that is, except Morgan. "That's what I thought. Too bad he doesn't control doom." Launce was on the verge of getting whiplash from trying to follow the exchange taking place. "Okay, hold! What do you mean he killed you? I can see you right here!"

The Thief stood now, turning back to face her new contemporaries. "I hadn't been sure when we met, but now I can see it clearly. Merlin is the Seer of Light. And you, Launce, are the Knight of Hope. Gwenne is the Sylph of Breath. And you... You Arther, are the Page of Life. Am I correct in assuming your dream self has returned?"

"You are." By now, Merlin and Launce were completely lost, and Merlin had had enough. "Stop! Would you answer the question already?" Morgan turned quickly to look at the healed messenger, though she first addressed the indigo blood. "I shall, shortly. First, we have an army of time-traveling green minions to battle. Neophyte, tell them to make ready the ship. I want everything perfectly ready when I step on deck, do I make myself clear?"

The young troll nodded, but looked to the Empress for permission. "Do it. She has as much say here as I do. We leave within the hour." The girl nodded, running out of the room. Now that the order had been given and the decision made, the Page and the Thief turned to their fellow trolls. Arther took the reigns, quickly explaining what had transpired.

"We are all much more powerful and destined for a much greater purpose than you have previously believed. I can tell none of you have awoken on your respective moons, but that is trivial. Lord English is a time-traveling demon, and he tried to kill all of our dream selves. He was, however, unsuccessful. I did not know it at the time, but the reason he was unable to kill us was Morgan." She looked to the ochre blood to elaborate.

"Let's make ready while I explain. It's rather lengthy." Gwenne spoke now, with a previously unseen vigor and courage. "Then shorten it. If this really as dire as you are now implying, we really should be moving already." With that, she turned on her heel and began to lead the way thru the corridors. Morgan grinned and then quickly delved into her tale.

"I am the Thief of Doom, and as such have the ability to 'steal' someone's, or something's, doom. By that I mean that I can take it and hold it. I can then, when I see fit, "give" it to my enemies. This thereby bestows the impending misfortune and death onto them. It's really quite effective." They rounded the corner to Arther's chambers, where she quickly gathered her essentials.

Over the course of their quick walk to their current locale, Gwenne and Merlin had been doling out orders to the workers that lined the hallways. By the time they were done collecting the Empress's things, everything else was awaiting them on the Imperial flagship. They exited the Page's room while Morgan continued to explain her knowledge.

"That skill came to be very effective in ending English's reign of terror on the poor people of Prospit, Prospit and Derse being the two aforementioned moons. You see, he didn't stick around to watch his work unfold. That was the opportunity I needed. I, for some reason, have two dream selves. Thus, while English was attempting to destroy Derse and Prospit, I was able to sneak away and lay in wait. As soon as he left for his next target, I used all my power to steal away that great doom that was surrounding those small moons. However, I could tell that I had not grasped all of the initial mass of destruction. I knew someone had died, I just didn't know who. Both of my dream selves were alive, so I knew it couldn't be me. We now know it was our dear Empress to-be."

She paused as they stepped on to the hulking ship, a mass of black metal that was abuzz with people. "Arther?" The Empress looked at her new friend, raising an eyebrow. "You said Utherr had aligned herself with English, yes? Would that have coincided with his attack on us?" The fuchsia blood appeared dumbfounded as they reached the bridge, her eyes wide and angry. "How dare she!? That traitorous little sea snake!"

Understanding was dawning on the others as well, and Launce seemed to be the most agitated. "She didn't want the competition, and apparently English agreed." Merlin jumped in as well. "Could this be his attempt to finish the job?" Morgan situated herself in the center of the deck, sitting on the floor as she answered. "No. He isn't coming himself. I would be able to feel the impending doom, as it always precedes him, and leaves a trail following him. No, I think he has a new apprentice... _How could you my little Prince... I told you not to..." _

Her face darkened and she lowered her head. She tried to control her voice as she issued her next command. "Everyone, if you would please make yourselves ready. I'm about to get this show on the road. Strap yourselves in, because holding on to something will just leave you missing an arm." Gwenne raised an eyebrow. "And you're just going to sit on the floor?" Arther smacked her on the back of the head. "Don't question her. I don't doubt that she knows what she's doing."

Morgan raised her head, looking straight ahead. "Merlin, give me a heading." The older troll simply said, "Forward."

And forward they went.

* * *

"Sweet Jegus! Bloody time-traveling leprechauns!" Morgan was dodging a myriad of attacks from all directions. They had intercepted the Felt, ready for battle. What they had not anticipated was the multitude of Felt they would be facing. Using Eggs timer, the different members of the gang had multiplied themselves, essentially creating an army of soft, green demon minions. Arther could only fork so many at a time, and Gwenne could only heal wounds as fast as the wind could move. Merlin was trying his best to relay viable tactical information, but they're were simply too many of the green creatures.

By this stage of the battle, their only hope was in fact the Knight of Hope. The Thief had sent him to collect the one thing they would need to completely wreck the foolish Felt, but he was taking too much time. She was becoming weary of the outcome of the battle.

Morgan called to Arther, "Where is he?! The odds are not turning in our favor; he needs to get here, now!" Arther was about to respond when a dark red crowbar whizzed past her face. The hook of the weaponized object sunk into a certain voodoo doll wielding leprechaun's face. "Finally! Merlin, now!"

Upon the command, Merlin pivoted towards the gold blood with his rifle in hand to pick straggling Felt off. In this fashion, he cleared a path for Morgan to retrieve the dropped doll. The Thief wanted to make the situation clear to everyone, so she released a bone chilling wave of pure doom. Everyone stopped, turning to face the grinning troll. She held up the doll, and one by one, put in all of the Felt's pins, save two: Snowman and Stitch. Upon the prompt decimation of the enemy forces, the survivors were quickly taken into custody.

The events of the extremely confusing time battle had left the flagship worse for wear, and Launce voiced some concerns about getting home.

"Are you sure it will fly?" Morgan gave him a look that screamed 'ask me again and I'll kill you.' Her voice was sarcastic as could be when she responded, "No Launce, I'm not sure I can make the poor little ship get home." She just stared at him for a minute. "Of course I can get us home. Albeit, at a somewhat reduced speed." Arther smiled and laughed, for she was too tired to otherwise react. Merlin shook his head, and the violet blooded Gwenne finally said, "Take us home Morgan."

"Gladly."

* * *

There was great celebration as the victorious band of heroes landed on Alternian soil. And indeed, celebration was in order. But a hero never gets to rest. And a hero must remember all parts of their forces. This was one case that the hero did not...

* * *

"The castle is under attack! Get the Empress to safety!" Firebombs dropped from the sky and smoke filled the air. "Where's Merlin?! And Gwenne!" "Arther, they'll be alright, I promise you. Now come on, we have you to worry about. Morgan, do you think you can get us up to the tower undetected?" The Thief nodded, taking the Empress's hand. "Launce meet us there, I need to go the long way. Get there unseen, and make sure the coast is clear." The Knight hugged his new and old friends, catching the former by surprise. "Consider it done." With that, he ran off, straight thru a mob of raving rustbloods.

"Hold on Arther, this is not going to be fun for you." The sea-dweller clutched her friend tightly, a feeling the ochre blood couldn't deny liking. They began to levitate in the air, dodging attacks from the ground and avoiding being seen by others in the air. Soon, no one could see them at all. It was in those moments that Morgan finally came to terms with what she was feeling for the girl in her arms.

She was now proud to call Arther _her__ Empress. _She had never thought she'd find someone she would be flushed for. Least of all a fuchsia blood. She never thought she would come to have so much in common with a member of the family that had unjustly abused her kind for so long. She certainly never thought she would be willing to protect such a person with her life, against what had once been her own army.

And yet, that moment was now. She welcomed it with closed arms in this case, given they were some 200 odd feet off the ground. But no one on the ground could reach them anymore and no on in the air noticed them. Or so they thought.

Much to his dismay, Moorre saw what he never believed he'd see. His mother, protecting a royal blood. "_No," _he thought. _"She's just making it look that way. This is still an inside job. She probably wants me to follow her." _Convincing himself of this, the Prince of Rage found his two best fighters and brought them along. The trio rushed into the castle, diving in and out of the shadows. When they reached the top of the tower housing the Empress, they stopped. And they listened. Then Moorre sent his men to distract Launce, while he himself hid in the darkness.

The gold blood set down the Page lightly before putting her own feet on the ground. Launce had been waiting patiently. "I've checked, we're safe up here. And if anyone tries to get up here, I can handle them." Morgan let out a sigh of relief, but only just. She could feel the doom that was beginning to surround her Empress. She knew what was coming before the chatter of enemy fighters even started up outside the door. Two heads swung to face the door, and the indigo blood burst thru the door immediately. Only then did Moorre step into the light of the room.

"Hello Mother."

"Hello little Prince."

Arther looked quickly between the two trolls before her. She could tell by the eyes of the man that he was the mutant, the leader of this attack. She didn't know what to feel, knowing the woman she was starting to fall for was, in fact, the mother of a psychopath. "Arther, this is Moorre Dreadd, my adopted son." The cold-blooded calmness of Morgan's voice was unnerving to the young sovereign. "W-what do you mean 'adopted son'? Did you raise him to be this way?!"

Moorre cut off whatever his mother was about to say, speaking with deadly precision, "Yes, little Queen. She did. She told me about all the injustice she faced in her life. Then I saw it first hand. And guess what? I didn't like it." He took a step forward, and Arther tried to get behind Morgan, but the gold blood did nothing.

"I didn't like that your predecessor was such an evil little scum. I didn't like that she helped the thing that tried to kill my mother." He stepped closer again.

"And now, I've come to return the favor, only I'll succeed where English failed. I've got a hero of doom on my side." He laughed, and it was an unhinged, unfiltered sound. It curdled the Empress's blood, but she didn't care about that.

"Morgan, how could you..." Fuchsia tears ran down Arther's face, and Morgan looked up in time to see all the hope leave those tyrian eyes. At that moment, two hearts broke, and one pounded in excitement.

"Oh no, Highness... How could you? Haha!"

It was the little Prince's mistake to turn his back on the Thief of Doom. Arther looked up as Moorre charged toward her, her eyes widening with fear.

"Time to die Fisher Queen!"

Morgan forced herself to wait as Moorre's weapon of choice, his first dagger, came down over Arther. Then, the gold blood screamed and dove forwards. "NO!" Just as the knife touched the Empress's throat, a prick of fuchsia appearing, Morgan ripped the doom surrounding Arther away. Catching herself in midair, Morgan turned to face the dumbstruck Prince; she didn't hesitate, and only said one thing.

"I told you not to, my little Prince."

She plunged the now tangible doom, which had taken the form of the same dagger Moorre held, into her son's chest. She twisted the blade once, knowing she needn't even do that. But she did, and every last effort had exhausted her. She collapsed on the floor, and Arther was immediately at her side. They could hear the life leave the mutant-blooded troll, and his fate was sealed.

"Morgan... why... why would you do something like that? You could have been killed..." Morgan smiled faintly. "That's okay, I wouldn't have minded. Though I think I'd like it much better if you would be my matesprit." Morgan coughed, gold blood spattering her sleeve. The Empress's eyes widened. "Morgan!" She could feel the life slipping away from the woman she'd come to love. But just then, she was struck with an idea. She didn't know why or where from, but she would do anything. The Page of Life called on all of her power, concentrating it into a tiny sphere between her fingers. She barely could whisper her answer to Morgan's question. "Of course I will." Then she dropped the little ball into Morgan's mouth. And she hoped.

It took a minute or two, but suddenly Arther could see the life flowing back into the ochre blooded trolls face. Her eyes slowly flickered open. Morgan looked up, seeing nothing but the tear stained face of a troll she thought she would always hate. Looking up at the overjoyed smile that appeared there, Morgan knew. She knew, as did _her _Empress, that they both had found love in a hopeless place.

Launce finally returned, but all he got to see was a very dead mutant, and two very happy heroes before the door closed soundly. He just stood and shook his head, though a smile did work on to his face.

"Morgan?"

"Yes Arther?"

"Everything is going to be alright now... right?"

"Of course. We'll change this world together. I promise."

"I never thought a Thief would actually try to steal something of mine."

"Oh? Well what did said Thief steal?"

"My heart." They both smiled, and they didn't care how cheesy it was.

"And you can have mine."

"Together, forever."

"Forever."

Le Fin

**AN: WELL! I do hope you all enjoyed it! Please don't forget to review! Please Fav or Follow, it is so much appreciated. And so sorry for over doing the exclamation points! ^_^ **


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